


Afterlife

by fadedink



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Crossdressing, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Movie(s), but it's not what you think, up to a point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 14:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1229476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadedink/pseuds/fadedink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The afterlife isn't at all what Chuck expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afterlife

**Author's Note:**

> This goes back to the Valentine's Day prompts that Brenda gave me. The prompt was "the afterlife isn't supposed to be this sexy" and, well, my brain went here. I don't even know.

Chuck Hansen goes down to the bottom of the Pacific knowing he won't return. He does his job, even when their chance of success goes from slim to none, and he does it without flinching. He does his job and he dies.

So when he opens his eyes to nothingness, he's more than a little stunned.

No, not nothing, not exactly. It's... white. And silence. Neither hot nor cold, neither bright nor dark, neither loud nor quiet. It's unnerving is what it bloody well is.

He can't even feel his own body. Can't see it, either, but then he can't see much of anything.

So he looks around, wonders if this is Heaven or Hell or some other part of the afterlife.

"You'll get used to it."

The voice out of nowhere startles Chuck so much that he stumbles as everything blinks out of existence.

 

When he opens his eyes again, it's dark. Not just dark, but total and utter blackness.

"Welcome back," the voice says. This time it's accompanied by a warm looking, soft glow that hovers just at the edge of Chuck's vision. "Uh uh, stay with me, kid."

"Who are you?" Chuck demands. "Where am I?"

"You're dead."

"No fucking shit." Chuck glares (or thinks he does) right at the light as it starts to grow brighter. "Which doesn't answer my bloody question."

"It's the only answer you're gonna get." The glow pulses gently, drawing closer. "None of us know where here is exactly. It's whatever we want to make it."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. And you didn't answer my _other_ question, mate."

"Oh, you wanted to know who I am." The glow coalesces into a humanoid shape, flashes bright enough to make Chuck squint, and then all he can do is stare.

Stray freckles scatter across the man's nose, and full lips twist in a wry smile. He has broad shoulders and lean hips, and he's tall enough to look Chuck in the eye. He's wearing a battered white Jaeger pilot drive suit. Laughing blue eyes watch him from beneath a shock of strawberry blond hair. Captain bloody America hair Herc had always called it.

Yancy fucking Becket.

Even in death, Chuck can't get away from those damn Yanks.

 

"How do you do that?" Chuck asks.

The white is back, and he tags along as Yancy walks away from him. Rather like a puppy on a leash, but Chuck squashes that thought with a vicious ruthlessness. It's too close to memories of Max.

"Do what?" Yancy glances over his shoulder in time to see Chuck gesture wildly. "Oh. It's easy. You just think it."

"Think it?"

Yancy stops walking and it's so abrupt that Chuck runs into his back before he can stop himself. Then, between one blink and the next, Yancy's drive suit is gone and he's wearing...

"What the bloody fuck, mate?"

Looking down at himself, there's a split second of guilt that flashes across Yancy's face. "Uh," he says, and just like that he's wearing faded jeans and an old t-shirt. "So anyway –"

"Nonono." Chuck steps in and flicks a finger against Yancy's chest. "You gonna tell me why you were just wearing women's frillies?"

And they were definitely frilly. Chuck had only managed a glimpse, but it was enough to register scarlet silk and lace panties with frilly ruffles across the arse.

"Illustrating my point." He gives Chuck a mulish look and walks away... and damned if Chuck doesn't follow him. Again.

"Your point is you wear ladies' knickers? Did your brother know about this?"

"The point is that all you have to do is think about something, focus hard enough, and you make it happen. Like your surroundings."

Yancy waves his hand and just like that they're walking through the halls of the Anchorage Shatterdome. Chuck recognizes it from his time at the Academy. The sudden shift in scenery is enough to distract him, but he makes a mental note to get back to Yancy's choice of attire.

 

"So getting back to those knickers –"

"Let's not."

"Yeah nah, mate," Chuck grins. He manages to change their surroundings to the Sydney Shatterdome and just holds in his laugh when Yancy stumbles. "You said it takes focusing hard... That mean you _wanted_ to prance around in front of me in bright red knickers?"

"I didn't –" Yancy stops and breathes through his nose hard enough to make his nostrils flare. "It requires focus at first. But if you picture things often enough, you reach a point where you don't have to really think about them."

"Wait, wait, _wait_ , so you're saying that you –"

"Drop the knickers, okay?"

"I will if you will."

"Do _not_." Yancy holds a finger up in Chuck's face. "Do not go there, kid."

Chuck narrows his eyes. If there's one thing he's never liked, it's someone telling him not to do something. He blames it on Herc. "Or what?" he asks, stepping up until he's chest to chest with Yancy. "What're you gonna do about it?"

"You're still a noob," Yancy says. His eyes take on a lazy, hooded look as his smile turns predatory. "I can do things you can't even begin imagine."

Before Chuck can respond, Yancy vanishes. The prick.

 

"Found you," Chuck crows as he drops into the snow pile beside Yancy. The fact that it's not cold or wet isn't as disturbing as Chuck feels it should be.

"I wasn't hiding," Yancy tells him. He nudges Chuck's shoulder and smiles.

He's dressed in a thick sweater much like the one Raleigh had worn the first time Chuck had seen him in Hong Kong. In fact, Chuck looks closer and realizes it's the exact same sweater. Yancy takes note of the attention.

"It's mine," he says.

Chuck makes a little "oh" sound. "So, um."

"Everything Raleigh had with him when he got there was mine." Yancy's eyes unfocus and he looks sad. "Except the pictures. Those were ours."

"He left after," Chuck says quietly, watching Yancy from the corner of his eye.

"I know." There's a flicker, a split second glimpse of the white drive suit again, but it's gone before Chuck can turn his head to look. "Kid blamed himself for what happened. Wasn't his fault, though."

"He seemed better..." Chuck pauses and scoots closer to Yancy until their shoulders press together. "After Gipsy took down Leatherback and Otachi, I mean. More like he was in the old vids of the two of you."

"Yeah, drifting with Mako helped him," he says, throwing a glance at Chuck. "More than you picking a fight did."

"You know about that?"

A heat wave-like shimmer ripples in front of them, drawing Chuck's attention. He stares in shock as something like a window appears. Through it, he can see Raleigh.

"You have to have some sort of connection to the person," Yancy says as he draws up one knee and wraps his arms around it. "But you can look in on them anytime you want."

"He's changed," Chuck says with a frown as he leans forward to get a closer look. Raleigh looks a little older, as if several years have passed, and his hair is longer. It brushes the collar of the shirt he's wearing, and those blue eyes have laugh lines at the corners.

"Time doesn't pass here." Yancy wears that sad look again when Chuck turns to face him. "For them, it goes on, but for us..."

"Oh," Chuck says, then, "are we in limbo?"

"I honestly don't know, kid. You want to see if you can find your dad?"

Chuck shakes his head, looking back at the image of Raleigh in front of them. As much as he wants to, Chuck knows he can't handle seeing his dad just yet.

 

Being dead has a few advantages. There's no need for sleep, you're never hungry, and you can run around naked all the time if you want. But Chuck realizes there are things he misses. The sound of his dad's voice. The feel of Max pressed against him in the middle of the night. The taste of a woman under his tongue.

This existence feels wrong – thin and weak – without them.

But Chuck will get used to it, like he has with everything else in his life, and he won't let this beat him. He tells himself that as he concentrates on his effort to open one of those windows Yancy had shown him.

It takes a while, but he finally manages it. And wishes he hadn't because he's looking at Herc _and_ Max.

They're outside, walking along Bondi Beach (Chuck recognizes it from when he was a tyke). He drinks in all the changes in the two of them.

Max shuffles along at Herc's side, each step slow and hesitant. It hurts something inside Chuck to see his best friend like that. And Herc...

His dad looks worn, tired. He matches his steps to Max's gait and looks as if he's forcing himself to keep moving forward. Chuck waves his hand and the image vanishes.

He's getting better at navigating wherever this is, so it's simply a matter of shifting his focus and Yancy's in front of him. "Hey, kid, what's –" Yancy stops when he looks at Chuck. "Oh. Your dad?"

Chuck just nods. He doesn't trust himself to speak.

"Oh, kid," Yancy murmurs. He steps in and wraps strong arms around Chuck, one hand cradling the back of his head, and Chuck lets him.

He doesn't cry, mostly because he doesn't know if he can, but Chuck grieves nonetheless. Funny, no one ever mentioned that the dead could grieve for the living.

"It gets better," Yancy says in his ear, and Chuck can tell that Yancy doesn't really believe that, either. But he nods.

He doesn't say anything as the white surrounds them again. He doesn't have a body and neither does Yancy, but he can still feel Yancy wrapped around him. It's a warm, safe feeling, and Chuck draws it closer as he surrenders to it.

 

Chuck avoids Yancy for a while after that. He can't say why exactly, because it isn't like Yancy comforting him made him uncomfortable.

In fact, if anything, it had been the exact opposite.

Chuck had liked it too much. He'd enjoyed letting someone else be strong while allowing himself a moment of weakness after a lifetime of denying himself that very thing. He'd always had to be the best, the strongest, the fastest. Perfection had allowed no time for weakness or leaning on someone else. He doesn't know quite how to reconcile that conflict.

So he just floats in the blackness.

From time to time, he looks in on Herc. It stops hurting so much, but it's never easy. And it's anything but easy or painless when he watches Herc cry and wrap Max in a soft blanket before carrying the limp body out to the backyard.

It's an eternity before he checks on his dad again.

What he sees then shocks him enough that he loses the window and pops back into the white before he can control it.

 

"Did you know?" he demands the second the scenery settles around him.

Yancy looks up, one eyebrow arched, and says, "What?" Then he peers at Chuck. "Oh. Yeah. No, I mean, I didn't _know_ , but..."

"But what?" Chuck glares when Yancy shrugs and looks sheepish. He ignores the fact that Yancy's sitting there in a pair of knickers again (these are pale blue and see-through).

"I saw them. Once." The panties vanish, replaced with shorts and a sweatshirt. "Can't say I was too surprised, though. Rals, well, he's always had a crush on your dad. It started way back when we first got to the Academy and your dad and your uncle Scott were there running a stint as trainers."

With a flick of his fingers, Yancy opens a window on the aftermath of what Chuck had just witnessed. Thank God they're finished.

Chuck isn't sure if he's horrified or amused. "That long?"

And 'that long' was a long time, because Herc now sports a goatee and there are wings of white at his temples. Raleigh's hair is long enough now for a short ponytail. But at the moment, it's sticking to his neck and cheek as he sprawls against Herc's side.

Again, thank _God_ they're finished. And the sheet's pulled up enough to cover them mostly. Chuck never needs to witness his dad having sex again.

"You should watch them," Yancy gently says. "He... He's good for your dad. And your dad's good for him. They helped each other heal."

Chuck just watches as his dad laughs and presses a kiss to Raleigh's forehead while Raleigh grins like a besotted fool. It's not a bad look for either of them.

 

Reaching over, Chuck pokes Yancy on the hip, letting his fingertips linger against the smooth satin. "So why _do_ you wear these?" The black satin vanishes, replaced by baggy sweats and a tank top. Chuck frowns. "Nah, mate, you don't have t'do that."

A long moment passes in silence. Then the sweats disappear and Yancy is almost naked again, except for a pair of black satin bikini pants that have a peek-a-boo window in the back that just reveals the top of Yancy's crack.

Chuck knows because he got an eyeful when Yancy had first popped into sight.

"I like the way they feel," Yancy finally says, drawing Chuck's eyes back to his face. "It's not, I mean, I didn't while I was still alive, so no, Rals didn't know. I didn't even know."

"But you thought it was a good idea to spend the afterlife wearing lacy knickers?" Chuck screws his face up in confusion. "And what d'you mean you like the way they feel? We don't have bodies, so how d'you feel anything?"

Yancy smiles and waves his arm in a vague motion. "It's like all this. Focus and you can feel. Go on, try it."

Chuck has his doubts. But he presses his fingers to the satin along Yancy's hip again, closes his eyes, and tries to focus. There's nothing, just like always. He opens his mouth to say as much when he _feels_ it. Slick warmth against his skin, rippling as Yancy moves.

"Oh my God," Chuck says, eyes flying open to see Yancy's grin.

"Told you," Yancy says before he leans in and covers Chuck's lips with his.

And yeah, Chuck can _totally_ feel that. Yancy's lips are soft and warm, slightly chapped, and his tongue is a warm weight as it slipslides along Chuck's. Bloody hell...

Yancy has a wicked smile in place when he pulls back. "And did I mention," he murmurs, "that you can control _everything_ if you focus hard enough?"

Chuck's mouth hangs open as Yancy vanishes. When he looks down, a wave of embarrassment swamps him because he's wearing nothing but a pair of emerald green lace knickers.

Fucking Becket.

 

"Come on," Yancy says as he appears without warning and grabs Chuck's arm.

"What? Where –"

"Just come on."

"Hold up, mate," Chuck says, curling his free hand around Yancy's wrist. Yeah, he could just vanish, but something in Yancy's voice has him curious. "What's up?"

"Another lesson in feeling things."

"Is this gonna involve me in knickers again?"

Yancy stops in mid-step and looks over his shoulder. "Do you want it to?"

Chuck doesn't have time to answer before Yancy's clothes vanish. Once again, he's wearing those scarlet panties. He smirks as he turns. And Chuck gets a proper eyeful.

The red satin clings to Yancy's hips and sits low enough that there's more than a glimpse of dark blond curls. It molds itself along Yancy's cock. Which is half-hard and definitely _not_ small. It's on the tip of Chuck's tongue to ask just how close Yancy is sticking to his real body.

But Yancy arches an eyebrow and fuck it.

"Yeah, alright," Chuck drawls. The look on Yancy's face when a pair of neon blue lace boyshorts replace Chuck's clothes is priceless.

"Fuck," Yancy says, drawing the word out as his eyes rake Chuck's frame. His gaze is lazy and hooded when he meets Chuck's. "You trust me?"

"I shouldn't," Chuck admits, but he does.

"Close your eyes and let go."

"What?"

"Stop focusing so hard," Yancy murmurs as he steps closer. His body goes fuzzy around the edges. "Hold on to your body, but don't keep it solid."

It takes several tries, and Chuck struggles with it as Yancy circles and stops behind him. Chuck completely blinks out a couple times, but Yancy's still there every time he reappears. And when he finally gets it right, Yancy's laugh is a low, rich chuckle in his ear.

"You didn't die a virgin, did you, Chuck?"

"What? _No_ ," Chuck says, glaring over his shoulder. Yancy just grins as if the answer is no more than he expected.

"Good. Now, pay attention."

Chuck opens his mouth to ask what he's paying attention to, but every thought flies right out of his head as Yancy steps forward, presses against his back, and then slips _inside_ his body. And holy fuck, the sensation is like nothing Chuck has ever experienced. Electricity crackles along his nerves, fire licks at his center, and then the white explodes around him.

He comes back to himself and sees Yancy stretched out on a bed wearing the most self-satisfied smile Chuck has ever seen. "What the fuck," he croaks, "was that?"

"Your first out of body orgasm."

"Holy _fuck_."

 

"So why don't I ever see anyone else?" Chuck's head is pillowed on Yancy's stomach when he asks. They're both still floating from the latest orgasm, but it's something that's been bothering him for a while.

"Do you want to?"

Glancing up, Chuck finds Yancy watching him. "Maybe?"

"Not everyone shows up here." Yancy cards his fingers through Chuck's hair. "I've never seen Marshal Pentecost. But the Gages are here. Don't try to find them, though."

Chuck props up on one arm and frowns. "Why not?"

"They're feral," Yancy says. His voice is so flat that a shiver of unease ripples up Chuck's spine. "It happens sometimes. Something about the way they died and their last thoughts."

"Feral?" Chuck doesn't really want to know, but the word slips out and he can't retract it.

"They have no boundaries. Not with each other and not with anyone else."

There's more to that story, but Chuck doesn't ask.

 

Chuck's floating in the white when it happens. He's alone, and then he's not, and he can feel Yancy's presence. Slowly, Chuck allows their reality to coalesce around him. "What's up?"

Then he gets a good look at Yancy's face. "Yance?"

Yancy doesn't say anything. He just waves and, as a window appears, a sick feeling creeps up on Chuck.

It's his dad, old and gray and lying in a hospital bed. Raleigh's at his side, their hands clasped tight, and Chuck sees the glint of matching gold bands on their left hands. But it's the tears and grief on Raleigh's face that make the black flicker around Chuck for a brief second.

As he watches, Raleigh throws his head back and screams before curling over Herc's still form.

"Come on," Yancy says as the window fades. "He'll be confused at first."

_How do you know he'll come here_ , Chuck wants to ask, but the words stick in his throat. His drive suit settles around his shoulders and he embraces it like the armor it is. It's the last thing his dad had seen him wearing, so it's only appropriate it's the first thing his dad sees him in now. And when Yancy disappears, Chuck doesn't call after him.

He just stands there and waits.

"Chuck?"

His name in that voice almost sends him to his knees. Herc sounds so confused and frightened. But Chuck lifts his head, flashes that cocky grin that was once his trademark, and steps forward to grasp his dad's arm. "It's me, Dad," he says. "Raleigh'll be along soon enough, so don't worry about him, okay? Come on, there's someone I want you to meet."

 

Herc settles into the new existence easily. His presence softens something that Chuck didn't even know was rough.

When Yancy comments on it, Chuck just shrugs and smiles.

When Herc figures out how to open windows of his own, Chuck sits with him and doesn't say a word as Herc watches Raleigh.

And when Herc starts to talk, Chuck listens. He'd never expected his dad to end up with someone like Raleigh Becket. But it's clear from Herc's voice that he had loved the other man deeply. And something inside Chuck softens a little more.

 

Chuck's with Yancy, curled around him in their big bed, when Herc's anguished howl rips through the white. Chuck doesn't need to look up to know that Yancy's expression matches Herc's voice.

"Come on," he says as he tugs Yancy from the bed. "Let's get you dressed."

And once he's dressed in the old battered white drive suit, Chuck lets him go. He releases his own focus and drifts, watching the reunion in silence. This isn't about him, and he's okay with that.

The first person Raleigh sees is Herc, and the joy and love in his eyes and smile spreads warmth through Chuck. If he'd had any doubt at all about how Raleigh had felt about his old man, it's gone. But the expression on Raleigh's face when he sees Yancy standing there...

"Yance?"

"Welcome home, kid," Yancy says, and he cries when Raleigh steps into his hug. When he lifts his head, he smiles at Chuck through his tears.

And Chuck, standing shoulder to shoulder with his dad, smiles back.


End file.
